


Venus In Furs

by Gabriel_Is_My_Guardian_Angel89



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bootblacking, Dom/sub, F/M, Praise Kink, Soft Sam, Sub!Sam, domme!Reader, masochist!sam
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:00:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27219802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gabriel_Is_My_Guardian_Angel89/pseuds/Gabriel_Is_My_Guardian_Angel89
Summary: Sometimes the weight of the world is too much, even for a man as strong as Samuel Winchester. Lucky for him then, that he has you to take the load off his shoulders, if even for just a little while.
Relationships: Sam Winchester/You
Kudos: 7
Collections: SPN Kink Bingo 2020, Sam Winchester Bingo





	Venus In Furs

**Author's Note:**

> This is a bit different from my usual Sub!Winchester stuff, a bit deeper. Listening to the song that lends this fic its name, and finding out the story behind the song, this idea struck me hard. This will be a multi-part fic, though I’m not sure how many parts. Consider this as an intro of sorts.  
> Squares filled: Bootblacking (kink), Sub!Sam (Sam), Songfic (afgb)

__

_S_ _hiny, shiny, shiny boots of leather_

_Whiplash girlchild in the dark_

_Comes in bells, your servant, don't forsake him_

_Strike, dear mistress, and cure his heart_

“You look _so good_ on your knees like that.” You smirked down at Sam as you switched feet, placing your unpolished boot in his lap. The tinge of pink on his cheeks did not escape your notice as he bowed his head at your praise. “Always a good boy for me, Sam, taking such good care of my boots. Of everything I present to you…”

You waved your hand over at the small table laden with the leather toys he had already finished blacking. The array wasn’t all that extensive yet but still provided a decent variety of pleasure, or punishment if need be. Sam had spent the past hour before your arrival cleaning and polishing the implements, laying them out carefully for your inspection. His attention to detail always pleased you; the subtle shine on the paddle catching the lamplight, the way the cat o’ nine tails felt supple in your grip. 

“Ever the perfect caretaker, aren’t you Sammy?”

“Yes, Mistress.” Sam paused his ritual, leaning in to press a kiss to your stocking-clad knee before returning to his duty. 

He bowed his head again, picking up the tin of polish and a rag. You watched him dip the cloth into the polish to collect a dab of the black substance, setting the tin back down before adjusting himself under your foot, his free hand gripping lightly at the back of your leg to hold your foot higher against his crotch. The heel of your boot no doubt pressed against the denim-covered erection you were sure he sported, the toe pressing against the bare skin of his stomach. 

“You spend so much time, taking care of everyone else. Making sure everyone is safe, happy, no matter the cost to you.” You watched as he spread the polish over the leather, his hand moving in ever-widening circles, working it into the material. “Who is there to take care of _your_ needs, Sam?”

“You do, Mistress. You always take care of me.” He set the sullied cloth aside, trading it for the softer, clean cloth and readjusting the placement of your foot as he set about bringing the leather to a shine. “You always know when I need you, when I need this.”

“Mm, I’m always amazed at how diligent you are at every task you set before yourself, Sam. The pain you take upon yourself to protect everyone else.” 

Sam ducked his head again, his hands working steadfastly at the leather between them. You never understood why he insisted on doing this for you, at least once a month. He already did so much for you outside of this room, this time was supposed to be a release for him, a way for him to let go of the world-sized weight that lay upon his shoulders. But it had been the one stipulation he would not budge on at the beginning of your arrangement; that he be allowed to care for the leather goods that were used to bring him that release, including the various footwear and clothing involved in these moments hidden away from the rest of the world. 

You observed him as he brought the boot to a perfect shine, his hands not stopping until he could see the glint of the light in the material. Setting the cloth down, he set your foot back in his lap, his cock perceptively firm even through the thick sole of your boot. With his task finished, he placed his hands flat on his thighs, his head straight, eyes hooded and downcast as he waited further instruction. The usual drill.

You pulled your foot away, stood up from the chair, and leaned down. You hooked your finger under his chin, nudging his head up to look at you. You felt a soft smile pull at your lips as you looked down at him, one of the few times you had the height advantage, when he was like this, his face open and earnest with silent supplication. He seemed so small, so fragile. An incongruous image to the tall, well-oiled machine that he was on a hunt. He looked so close to breaking in these moments, his eyes wide, pleading. You still marveled that this man eagerly fell to his knees for someone like you. How were you worthy of such trust, such devotion? The realization often left you feeling heady, your heart fit to burst with emotions you’d never thought you would feel. Love, joy, pride...a sense of power and confidence only he could bring out in you. 

“Always so perfect for me, Sam.” You brushed your lips over his before straightening back up, urging him to follow suit. “Tell me, baby, what will it be today? Tell me what you need, let me make you whole again.”


End file.
